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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319204">lyin' on the cold hard ground</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves'>amsves</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Episode: s04e12 Shell Shocked Part 2, Gen, Trapped, Viggo-centric, Whump, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:50:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The pit was dark, and damp, and dirty, all things a good pit should be. But for some reason, as Viggo fell down into its depths before hitting the wooden bottom, he didn’t feel very appreciative of these qualities. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>lyin' on the cold hard ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>And that's a wrap on Whumptober! I didn't complete very many prompts, but I enjoyed the ones I did complete.</p>
<p>
  <i>I knew you were trouble when you walked in<br/>So, shame on me now<br/>Flew me to places I'd never been<br/>Now I'm lyin' on the cold hard ground</i>
</p>
<p>-- I Knew You Were Trouble, Taylor Swift</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The pit was dark, and damp, and dirty, all things a good pit should be. But for some reason, as Viggo fell down into its depths before hitting the wooden bottom, he didn’t feel very appreciative of these qualities. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t supposed to be like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A useless thought, as things currently were ‘like this’. But he couldn’t stop the indignant notion from making its way unbidden into his head anyways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Above him, he could hear the sounds of footsteps shuffling and furniture moving. Perhaps Ryker was covering up the entrance to the prison in which he had trapped his brother and leader? That would be uncharacteristically intelligent of him. When he escaped, Viggo would have to commend him for his actions. Before cutting him down for the unforgivable crime of treason, of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pit was tall enough that he could stand, so tall that Viggo couldn’t touch the wooden hatch. Even on his tiptoes, he could barely brush his fingertips against it. He jumped, pushing against the hatch with all his strength, but it didn’t budge. A few additional attempts brought no success.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stones were rough enough that he could try to climb them, but that didn’t seem like it would help. In all likelihood, there was something terribly heavy sitting on top of the hatch to the pit, something that he couldn't hope to dislodge from below. A chest, perhaps? A table?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viggo settled himself back onto the wooden floor. There was no point in wasting energy by trying the same thing over and over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It really wasn’t supposed to be like this. Where did everything go wrong?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Really, it was his own fault. Ryker wasn’t good at keeping things concealed; if Viggo had just had his eyes open a bit wider, he would have seen the metaphorical punch coming before it landed. His brother must have been working to turn the men for at least a few days. Had their attitude been different? When he spoke to them as he always had, did they laugh among themselves at his ignorance of what was about to befall him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had Ryker himself changed at all? Viggo racked his brain, trying to think of any discrepancies, but came up short. He hadn’t been paying attention to his older brother at all. Ryker had always been a constant in Viggo’s life; he was direct, ready to hit first and ask questions later, not much of a thinker or strategist. Viggo had wielded that willingness to fight as a sword for his own benefit, but he was certainly on the wrong end of the blade now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Come now, brother. Leave the thinking to me.” “You’ve played your part, Ryker, now get out of my way.” “If it were up to you, we’d simply punch every problem into oblivion. Listen to me.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even gronckle iron would shatter if hit thousands of times in the same place. Viggo had repeatedly taken a mace to his brother’s loyalty, and it had done as all things are wont to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viggo stood up again. That was enough wallowing. He should have been looking for other ways out besides the trap door at the top. Maybe he could pry up the floorboards?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could not, as it turned out. They were secured by the rock walls all around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat back down. Truth be told, he was starting to get thirsty. The pit was dusty, having not housed a prisoner in some time. Viggo felt like his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. Running out of water would be a surefire way to give Ryker what he wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The outrage and indignation at his present situation had fueled him until now, but Viggo could feel his strength draining. Maybe all he needed was to close his eyes for a moment. Perhaps, if he were able to take a short nap, a brilliant solution would present itself to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stretched out as best he could on the wooden floor and closed his eyes. He tried to focus on regulating his breathing, taking deep breaths in, holding them, and then releasing them slowly. True, these circumstances weren’t ideal for sleeping, but he should be able to manage it. He just had to stay calm and focused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gods, he was thirsty. His whole body hurt from the fall, something he hadn’t really noticed before now. The roughness of the rocks and wood on his bare skin left him feeling raw, and he was sure that, if he had more light, he would see a variety of bruises forming on his skin. Was it possible he was bleeding, too, and just hadn’t noticed? Maybe somewhere under his clothing and armor?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viggo tried to summon the will to open his eyes, tried to flex his fingers, but his strength had entirely deserted him. He was exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to die here.</span>
  </em>
  <span> More useless thoughts, but if there was ever a time to be afraid of his own death, this was it. He was trapped, well and truly, by an opponent he had underestimated, hadn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen </span>
  </em>
  <span>on the board. He had been blinded by bigger and better things, and had neglected the number one rule of survival: </span>
  <em>
    <span>watch your back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps this was what he deserved. If he could be taken out by any old simpleton, then Viggo Grimborn was in no way fit to lead the Dragon Hunters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viggo took another breath, and waited for a rescue he knew might never come. </span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>He must have drifted off, because he felt himself wake. For a moment, he kept his eyes closed, letting himself come back to consciousness gently. Then, he heard it. The sound of footsteps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or, rather, he realized with a smile, one footstep, alternating with a familiar </span>
  <em>
    <span>click </span>
  </em>
  <span>of metal. Now he just had to hope that his savior was as clever as Viggo liked to give him credit for being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard Hiccup let out a great roar of frustration at being thwarted, and then something crashed against the trap door of the pit. He held his breath instinctively, though it might have been wiser to be making as much noise as possible. Would Hiccup realize?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Evidently, he would. The hatch creaked open, and light streamed in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Parched, sore, and tired though he was, Viggo felt a wave of relief wash over him. Hiccup shouted something, presumably to the other Riders, but it sounded like nonsense. His head was swimming. “I never imagined that these words would come out of this mouth,” Viggo said, as clearly as he could, “But, my dear Hiccup, I am overjoyed to see you.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me and request bingo squares on Tumblr (I’m @therewillbebeauty)! I'm playing both Fluff Bingo and Bad Things Happen Bingo, so I can either torture or pamper your fave--or both!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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